unlikely that you would get a rowboat for the Pacific while the Soviets were in any danger whatsoever.”
“True enough,” King admitted. Roosevelt had earlier agreed to an aggressive defense and had also sent a few additional warships to the Pacific. Not enough to take on the Jap fleet, but at least it was something. This conversation with Marshall was the second lecture he’d received this day on the need to be a team player. He would do it. He would swallow the bile of having to let the Pacific wait and to aid the British and Soviets instead.
God help the Philippines and Hawaii, he thought. On the other hand, God help the United States if Henry Wallace ever became president. Why the hell hadn’t Roosevelt taken more care in selecting someone who was only a heartbeat away from the presidency?
CHAPTER 6
Is Captain Jake Novacek entered the small, cluttered office at Hickam Field, he started to report formally to his new commanding officer in G-2, the Intelligence Department. Before Jake could utter a word, the colonel behind the paper-strewn desk scowled and abruptly waved him to a chair.
“Novacek, you are the sorriest sack of shit I have ever seen. You are the biggest mistake West Point ever made, and you could spend an eternity with those bars on your shoulder and you still wouldn’t be a gentleman. Not only that, your reports are pure, unadulterated bullshit, and they are so barely intelligible that I wonder if you speak English at all.”
“I’m glad to see you too, Colonel. I was beginning to think you didn’t like me anymore.”
With that, both men laughed and shook hands. Colonel Joseph Lawton Collins was forty-six, a man of medium height and a trim, athletic build. He had a square, solid face and clear eyes that hid a wicked sense of humor. Joe Collins had been an infantry tactics instructor at the academy, where the two men had formed a close friendship. Collins had admired the grim determination of the young cadet Novacek, who would not take the easy way out by resigning and returning to his old NCO rank when things got tough.
Collins offered a cigarette, which Jake accepted. “Jake, it’s good to see a face I recognize and trust around here. I’m not an intelligence man, I’m a line officer,” he told the junior officer.
Jake understood. “I heard a rumor you actually told General Marshall that you didn’t want any more Washington desk jobs and he listened.” Putting Collins in a desk job was akin to caging a tiger.
“It’s close enough.” Unsaid was the fact that no one demanded that the army’s chief of staff do anything.
“Are you on his list for general?”
Collins smiled. “I’m supposed to get my star in March.”
“Congratulations in advance, then. I wish I could get on Marshall’s list, although with my luck, it’ll be his shit list. In a little while I’ll be the oldest captain in the army with an academy ring.”
“I know,” Collins said. “I got an earful from General Short and Colonel Phillips about your report that the local Japs were harmless. A lot of people aren’t all that happy that you were right and that you went on record about it. On the other hand, telling the truth can turn out to be a virtue.”
“What do you mean?”
Collins leaned back in his chair and grinned smugly. “Do you know Ike Eisenhower?”
“I met him once, I think. Wasn’t he MacArthur’s chief of staff?”
“Ike’s a temporary brigadier general in War Plans in Washington, and very high on Marshall’s list. I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a lot more stars before this mess is over. At any rate, just before the attack, someone on Short’s staff, maybe Phillips, sent Ike a copy of your report with a notation that this was the kind of asshole Short had to work with and could Ike help them replace you with someone who could actually think.”
“Jesus.”
“Ike got it just a day or two before the Japs attacked, remembered it, of course, and gave it to Marshall, who wondered why your assessment wasn’t believed, especially after it turned out to be correct. According to my sources, Marshall is really pissed off at Short for losing his air force by parking it close together on the ground. If the planes had been dispersed, as you and others had recommended, then the Japs wouldn’t have been able to paste them like they did. At any rate, Jake, you are not on anybody’s shit list, and both Marshall and Ike are a little intrigued about you.”
Jake laughed. “You mean I may make major before the war’s over?”
Collins gestured for Jake to close the office door. “Nothing’s official, but don’t be surprised. It might not come until Short’s relieved, but that shouldn’t be all that much longer. Short’s just being kept on until the situation stabilizes, then he’s gone. Keep this under your hat, my friend, but Major General Delos Emmons will replace Short, and I will replace Phillips as chief of staff around here. It’s not exactly a combat command, but, with the Japs just over the horizon, it’s the next best thing.”
Collins ground out his half-unsmoked cigarette. “Now, off the record, what the hell is going on around here? I’ve only been here a couple of days, and I don’t know who I can trust. Hell, I don’t even know if the Japs are going to attack or not.” He gestured angrily at the stacks of paper on his desk. “And what am I to make of all this crap?”
“First, you can trust Bicknell,” Jake said. Bicknell was a lieutenant colonel and the number two man in G-2. “Bicknell’s like me. He’s a little too rough around the edges for Short’s taste. He was a cop in civilian life and doesn’t have much military background, but he’s good. When you relieve Phillips, he can take over here. For the time being, do what Fielder did and let Bicknell do all the work.”
Collins nodded. Short had a reputation for appreciating style over substance, and it was rumored that the deposed G-2, Colonel Fielder, had been given his job because he was sophisticated, suave, and a good dancer, and that he knew little about intelligence work. The point about dancing was significant because Fielder often wound up taking Mrs. Short to social events when the general was too busy.
Collins glared at the papers on his desk as if they were the enemy. “Is any of this important? I’ve glanced through it, and most of it seems to be from old ladies seeing Japs on their beaches or parachuting onto their roses. There are more alleged sub sightings than the Japs have got subs. What the hell’s going on?”
Jake shrugged. “Overreaction and a little panic, causing excessive imagination. When the Japs come, they’re not going to skulk around, like these reports indicate. Any Jap saboteur would have to be nuts to land now. Most of the reports you can disregard, especially the parachutes. Some of the sub sightings might be real, but nothing could be done until it’s too late, and nobody wants to waste fuel on a wild goose chase.”
“You in good enough with the Japanese community here?”
“Enough to know that nothing’s gonna happen from them and that no one’s hiding any spies. With the major radicals on their way to California, any Japs who would try to sneak in would have no place to hide. A lot of the people in the community really do prefer us over their cousins in Tokyo.”
Jake wondered just where that left Toyoza Kaga. To date his information had been perfect. Would it continue if the Japanese did attack? Kaga was a survivor, and that worried Jake. How far would he go to survive? But Toyoza Kaga was one of the real leaders in the community, and Jake would continue to depend on him. What other choice did he have?
“Okay,” Collins said. “Now, what’s your professional guess? Will the Japs attack again?”
Jake answered without hesitation. “Yes. They’d be crazy not to.”
“Can we stop them? What’s your assessment of the Hawaiian Division?”
The question surprised Jake. “You’d know that better than I, wouldn’t you?”
“First, Jake, remember that I’ve only been here a few days. Second, while I’ve read a lot of reports, I really haven’t seen the Hawaiian Division in action. I’ve got my opinions, but now I want yours.”
“Okay. The division is too much spit and polish and not well trained or equipped for this war. If this was 1917, they’d be in great shape. Nothing can be done about the equipment, which is as bad as everyone else’s, but the training deficiencies could be corrected. If they were going to France to live in trenches, they’d be okay. But that’s not going to happen. When the Japs come, the Hawaiian Division’s going to fight a superbly trained and highly maneuverable enemy army that’ll cut them to shreds, particularly since they won’t have any air cover.
“Everybody keeps underestimating the Japanese military, and it’s going to cost us dearly if and when they
